


fly with me

by emorosadiaz



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Amy, Bisexual Jake, Bisexuality, Canon Queer Character, Comedy, Drama, F/F, F/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Warning: Donald Trump, adbflnjlnbks that is a real tag i am SCREAMING, sleuth sisters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 00:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14841981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emorosadiaz/pseuds/emorosadiaz
Summary: What Amy does know: Rosa Diaz is one of her closest friends, the older sister she never had, and the president of the same club Amy is VP for.What Amy doesn't know: Rosa is practically aserial dater, has dated the presidents of all the other clubs they're trying to work with, and is probably about to date the president of the one club that agreed to work with them.(essentially, the dianetti + peraltiago college au i kept telling myself i'd write)





	1. move-in weekend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i’ve been wanting to write a dianetti + peraltiago college au for a while, and this appears to be the Result: a multi chap fic putting our heroes thru the hell that was the 2016-2017 school year at a liberal arts university in a minority-majority city in america
> 
> aka trump can catch these (rosa’s) hands
> 
> but most importantly I GOT THE GOOD KUSH. THE DIANETTI. admittedly slowburn but dw i Suffer writing slowburn just as much as you reading it…so i’m gonna try to make it as painful but also as painless as possible ???
> 
> anyway i’m gonna fuck off now and just let y’all read lmao. see you on the other side!!!

Amy raises a hand to block the late summer sun from her eyes, watching the CSU move-in weekend chaos of parents with their college-age kids unfold before her. There are brightly colored moving carts everywhere, many overflowing with boxes and tubs of students’ personal belongings. She catches sight of two parents tearfully hugging their daughter goodbye.

“Ugh,” Tony, her older brother standing beside her, says, apparently watching them, too. “Emotions.”

“Aw, come on,” Amy says, looking up at him. “It’s cute!”

“Why are they so sad?” Tony scoffs. “It’s not like their kid’s leaving _forever_.”

“Didn’t you cry when Mom and Dad left you here the first time?” Amy reminds, thinking back to four years ago. “Your freshman year?”

“Hush,” Tony says, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. His keys jingle with the movement, the lanyard attached narrowly missing whipping Amy in the face. She frowns, dodging. “Alright, I’m gonna let you go back to your place and unpack. You’re welcome for being the best older brother in the world.”

Amy smirks. Having eight kids ranging in age from middle school to out of college meant one’s hands would be full—hence why her parents asked Tony, Amy’s oldest brother, to help her move into her dorm in their place. “Thank you for helping me move in. You _are_ the best older brother in the world.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And thank you for taking me out to lunch.”

“No problemo, sis,” Tony says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder for a quick half-hug. “Just make sure to pass your five-star review onto Mom and Dad for me, ‘kay?”

“’Kay. Love you."

“Love you, too.” Tony ruffles her hair, much to her protest. “See you at Thanksgiving!”

Tony walks away then, swinging his lanyard of keys beside him. Amy rolls her eyes, turning away and heading back to her residence hall.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket, checking for texts. More specifically, she opens her text conversation with Rosa, sad to find that Rosa hasn’t texted her back yet. Amy had texted her before she left for lunch with Tony, to let her know she’d be gone from the room for a while, in case Rosa showed up then.

Despite their differences, Amy’s pretty damn excited to room with Rosa. Rosa’s technically a year older than her, but housing for this school year had been a shitshow back in spring, so all sorts of mismatches happened (both on accident and on purpose; their situation was an example of the latter, because Rosa took advantage of the chaos to get assigned to sophomore housing with Amy).

Amy pockets her phone, figuring she’ll just resume waiting for Rosa in the room. As she enters their hall, she eyes the various “welcome back!” posters scattered across the walls, some already advertising club meetings for the first few weeks of school. She makes a mental note to talk to Rosa about getting on that.

Which brings Amy’s brain back to the time she first met Rosa, almost a year prior.

It was almost a year ago now, at a Latinx Student Union meeting in mid-October (she has the exact date written down in her planner to immortalize it as their friendversary, of course). That particular meeting was big-little reveal—where new, young members of the club, such as freshman Amy, would be paired with an older member of the club who would serve as their mentor and/or pseudo older sibling of sorts.

Amy had walked up to the front of the classroom nervously, standing in a line with the other freshmen, turning away from the crowd and covering her eyes.

When the president called for the freshmen to turn around and meet their bigs, Amy found herself face-to-face with Rosa, wearing something between a scowl and a smile.

Before that day, Amy had never even _met_ Rosa, let alone see her at any LSU meetings. (Rosa liked to lurk around in the background; Amy realized later on that she’d seen Rosa sitting alone in the very back of the room once or twice.) And Rosa’s not one to emote much, and she always dresses in dark colors, so the whole thing just screamed “awkward” and “danger” and “yikes!” to Amy.

(Admittedly, Amy was even a little disappointed at first, because some of the other upperclassmen seemed so _cool_ and she thought she’d totally bonded with them during the meetings and events before big-little reveal, but perhaps not.)

Rosa didn’t push Amy to hang out with her much, which Amy was okay with, given her discomfort, but she realized Rosa was letting her take the wheel on their big-little relationship, and, well.

Amy did as Amy does—find out as much as she can about a person or subject at hand, to make more sense of everything.

In her snooping around she discovered Rosa was on the executive board of another cultural club on campus— Sì Se Puede, the immigration support-slash-awareness club—and was even rumored to be potentially running for _president_ the following year, her junior year. Amy couldn’t believe it— _Rosa?_ Antisocial, dark, edgy Rosa?

Amy isn’t an immigrant herself, but she has many relatives who are, including her own parents, so she decided to conduct a little stakeout at their next meeting.

Upon attending, she discovered a tightknit group of people, no more than ten present, discussing contemporary immigration politics, on-campus efforts to support immigrant students and raise awareness of current immigration issues in America, and, simply, just how they were doing.

Rosa lead much of the discussion.

Since it was such a small gathering, _of course_ Amy’s presence was noticeable; she couldn’t pull a lurking-Rosa-move like she’d wanted to. But Amy will never forget the soft, surprised smile Rosa had offered her upon her entrance, welcoming her into their circle.

And Amy hasn’t missed an SSP meeting since.

Ever since Amy began participating in SSP, she and Rosa have bonded—if she does say so herself, thank you very much. Rosa’s the type of friend Amy would’ve never expected to make, given their differences, but she’s _so_ thankful to have her.

And now they get to live together!

Amy’s so lost in her thoughts when she returns to the room that it takes her a moment to recognize the sight before her: Rosa, with her characteristic _lack_ of personal belongings (read: one suitcase and three moving boxes), fighting to get twin-sized sheets onto her twin-XL mattress.

“Rosa!” Amy calls happily, running to hug her.

Rosa stops what she’s doing to acknowledge Amy’s hug with a soft, only-slightly-uncomfortable grunt.

“’Sup,” she says as Amy pulls away.

“How long have you been here?” Amy asks. “I just went out to lunch with my brother! If I’d known you were coming so soon, I would’ve brought you back food.”

“It’s okay,” Rosa says, resuming fighting her sheets and mattress. “I just want to finish moving in, then food.”

“Copy that.”

Amy turns her attention to her own things still packed away in boxes easily outnumbering Rosa’s measly three, but she sees Rosa _did_ manage to unpack one thing before her sheets: the framed picture of the two of them Amy had given her as a “thanks for being my big, can’t wait to room together next year, happy summer!” present some four months prior, now sitting in all its glory on Rosa’s otherwise empty desk.

Amy smiles to herself.

* * *

“It’s finally happening,” Amy says as she slides under her covers that night, her bed against the wall opposite to Rosa’s. “Rosa and Amy, big and little, living together!”

Amy sings the last part. Rosa says (affectionately), “Ew.”

“Rude!”

“Just kidding. I’m happy to live with you, too,” Rosa says. “Everyone else sucks.”

“Not _everyone_.”

“No one’s as clean as you.”

“Understandable.” Amy nods, turning onto her stomach and propping her head up with her arm. “Also, we should meet with eboard soon and start planning our meetings and events for this year. I brainstormed some ideas over the summer.”

Eboard is their executive board—basically, the club officers for SSP. Rosa had run for president unopposed, which wasn’t surprising, given the small size of the club and the fact that Rosa had been on eboard already (as secretary-slash-cultural-coordinator, because they didn’t have enough members to fill the eboard positions).

“Of course you did,” Rosa teases. “That’s my little.”

And once Amy started attending and participating in meetings, it didn’t take long for the other members to warm up to her.

“That’s also your _vice president_ ,” Amy reminds proudly. “I really want to boost inter-org support this year, since immigration is an issue that touches a lot of different communities, and with Trump running for president—“

“Don’t remind me,” Rosa cuts in with a groan. “I refuse to talk about the orange bastard this late at night without alcohol.”

“Noted. We can talk about it tomorrow,” Amy says, moving to settle back down in her bed but freezing halfway, looking at the wall perpendicular to her. “Oh, uh...do you want me to turn off my nightlight? I forgot to get it before I got into bed.”

“It’s fine,” Rosa says, already pulling her covers up to her chin with a yawn. “I don’t mind the light.”

(She actually would prefer to sleep with some form of light on always, not because she’s afraid of the dark or some little kid bullshit like that…light is just _cool_ , okay?)

“Okay.” Amy seems to accept it without question, resuming her sleep-ready position. “Goodnight, Rosa.”

“’Night.”

* * *

The following day, when Amy and Rosa go to the dining commons for brunch, Amy announces they already have plans for the day.

“We are _making_ this coalition happen,” she declares, passionately (but gently) bringing her fist down on the table. Only the people sitting closest to their table stare at them. “Given today’s political climate, we _need_ to be united and promote intersectionality.”

Rosa checks the time on her phone. It’s a few minutes past eleven in the morning, which means their conversation falls into the hours Rosa deemed appropriate for presidential election discourse sans alcohol, as outlined in the schedule she and Amy crafted and hung up in their room a day prior, sharing a hesitant, forced laugh.

“I know it was just a little idea from an offhanded comment last year,” Amy continues, “but seeing as this presidential race has only gotten _worse_ since then, I think we should make it happen.”

It’d actually been suggested by Charles, who’s always been deemed the Residential White Ally of SSP by Rosa, since he shows up to every meeting ready to learn and listen. She’s talked to other members of the club here and there about it over the summer, just as casually, but didn’t expect anything to really happen until after school started.

Amy appears to have other ideas, though. “Obviously, we can get LSU”—Latinx Student Union, the club that brought Amy and Rosa together—“onboard since we have some membership overlap. The other two cultural clubs I think we should go for are BSU”—Black Student Union—“and PASA”—Pilipino (Filipino, it’s a Tagalog alphabet thing) American Student Association—“since they’re two of the biggest. Plus, immigration isn’t _just_ a Latinx issue!”

And in theory, Rosa thinks this is a solid plan. It makes sense to reach out to the three most active cultural clubs, which then shows diversity in their immigrant-rights-focused coalition. It’s a win-win.

But, see, the problem is, Rosa knows who _exactly_ runs these clubs, and she tries to withhold a sigh.

“And I know you’re the president, Rosa, so you get the final say, but I may have gone ahead and scheduled meetings with the presidents from each of these clubs today, to get ahead on things…is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Rosa says, sitting back in her chair. “Just don’t hate me after today.”

“Uh…what?”

* * *

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t _Rosa_.”

“ _Alicia_ ,” Rosa greets her just as pleasantly (or not), with far less humor. Amy looks at her, confused, mouthing _what_ pretty indiscreetly.

(What Amy does know: Alicia is this year’s president of LSU. Last year, she’d been on LSU eboard as member liaison, which meant she made the big-little pairings herself, such as Rosa and Amy.)

(What Amy doesn’t know: Alicia is Rosa’s ex from the end of Rosa’s freshman year. They’d met in LSU and eventually started dating, but things ended pretty badly. Alicia assigned Rosa to be Amy’s big despite: 1) Rosa explicitly stating she never wanted to pick up a little, and 2) Amy explicitly stating she wanted Alicia as her big. Revenge is a dish best served cold and Amy gets cold easily.)

“I’m only here ‘cause Amy asked,” Alicia says bluntly, taking a long sip from her latte.

“Yeah? Well, so am I!” Rosa says.

“What the hell?” Amy looks between the two of them. “Rosa, you _wanted_ this coalition!”

Rosa groans. “It’s for the greater good. Work with us, Alicia.”

“Hmmm…” Alicia takes a long sip of her peach green tea lemonade, light ice, and Rosa wonders why the _fuck_ she still remembers Alicia’s Starbucks order down to the _light ice_. “I’ll think about it.”

* * *

“Well, this is awkward.”

“Hi, Tiffany,” Rosa greets dryly.

“Oh, my God,” Amy says, looking to Rosa desperately, “not her, _too?_ ”

(What Amy does know: Tiffany is the bubbly, extroverted president of PASA. Rosa is antisocial and broody. _How_ and _why_ would they ever know each other?!)

(What Amy doesn’t know: Rosa dated Tiffany right before dating Alicia. Tiffany took Rosa out to ramen once as a date. Ramen involves a lot of broth. Broth is too much like soup. Case closed.)

“Yikes,” Tiffany says, shaking out her boba tea before stabbing her straw through the plastic film covering the top. “Hope you overcame your fear of soup, Diaz.”

* * *

“The ghost lives!”

At Aubrey’s comment, Marcus high-fives her.

“Come _on,_ ” Amy mutters, looking to Rosa incredulously.

(What Amy does know: Aubrey and Marcus are the president and vice president of BSU, respectively. Again, Rosa is anti-social, Rosa has no close friends, _they should not know Rosa, let alone have dated her_.)

(What Amy doesn’t know: oh, yeah, Rosa dated them alright, one right after the other last school year. Rosa ghosted both of them afterward. It was the hot LSU-BSU goss for a solid week. Amy wasn’t deeply ingrained within the club enough yet to have access to such hot goss.)

“The mutual experience of Rosa ghosting us brought us closer together as friends,” Marcus explains, gesturing to himself and Aubrey. 

“Yeah,” Aubrey says. “We ran our joint campaign for BSU eboard on it and everything.”

Rosa wishes the earth could just open up and swallow her whole.

* * *

They return to their dorm room in an uncomfortable silence, each processing their horribly awkward afternoons silently.

Rosa lies back on her bed, checking her phone for some sort of distraction. Amy sinks into her desk chair, looking like her parents had just informed her on how babies are made, in great detail.

“I can’t believe it,” she finally says, some thirty seconds later, massaging her temples. “My big is a _serial dater_.”

Rosa shrugs.

“And no one agreed to join the coalition yet!” Amy continues. “All because you couldn’t keep it in your pants!”

“Hey,” Rosa looks at her around her phone, “no slut-shaming.”

“I’m not shaming you for being a _slut_ ,” Amy says, “I’m shaming you for specifically being a slut for literally all the other clubs’ presidents.”

Rosa scoffs. “I have a type, I guess.”

“You’re a serial dater,” Amy repeats, clearly still trying to comprehend.

“Could’ve been worse,” Rosa says. “I could’ve been a serial _killer_.”

“I bet they’ll form a coalition with each other to exclude us,” Amy continues. “The anti-Rosa coalition.”

“Okay, chill, dude,” Rosa says, sitting up straight. “We just have to get other people to join the coalition first to make BSU, LSU, and PASA look like dicks for not joining sooner.”

“Your lack of diplomacy scares me,” Amy says, unconvinced.

“Trust me, dude.” Rosa opens her contacts on her phone. “I’m about to cash in a favor.”

She sends a text to one _Jake Peralta._

* * *

Rosa actually met Jake on the first day of her freshman year—almost two years ago. They had a sociology class together at 8:00 AM every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday that semester, which was _very_ torturous, thank you for asking. (Class registration had been a _bitch_ , as always, and, no, it does _not_ get better with each semester, Rosa can tell you that much for sure.) As they say about extreme circumstances bringing people closer together, though, even Rosa in all her antisocial glory didn’t escape hell class without making a friend.

That friend was Jake, who, despite his normally goofy and upbeat attitude, was _just_ as upset by the prospect of getting up so early for class regularly.

Add in a sucky professor (Rosa still shudders at the name _McGintley_ ) and, yeah, Intro to Sociology totally _sucked_.

Rosa made sure to go to (almost every) class, though. And since she and Jake lived in neighboring residence halls, they decided to walk to class every morning together. At the beginning of one’s freshman year of college, “let’s walk to class together!” is a sacred pact one must not break _ever_ , lest they want to have no friends and/or potential study buddies. And, sure, Rosa’s a lone wolf or whatever the hell, but it’s suicidal to _not_ make an acquaintance of some sort in hard ass classes like McGintley’s.

(Moral of the story: Jake hated getting up for class but was low-key afraid of Rosa’s wrath should he stand her up for their regularly scheduled walks to class, so he made it about eighty-five to ninety percent of the time.)

Flash forward a few months, the morning of their final, when Jake _overslept_ and Rosa broke into his dorm room—via methods she still hasn’t disclosed to him—to haul his ass to the test with just a minute to spare.

Jake, after handing in his final an hour and a half later, sleepily looked at Rosa like she was God Herself, after descending to the mortal realm that is earth.

“I owe you one,” he’d said, and Rosa decided to pocket the favor for later.

Now, almost two years since, is _later_.

“Rosa!” Jake greets, opening the door after Rosa’s loud knock. “Whazzup!”

“Jake,” Rosa says more calmly, gesturing to Amy beside her. “This is Amy.”

“I’m Rosa’s roommate-slash-little-slash-vice-president,” Amy introduces proudly, reaching a hand out to Jake.

“Ooh, you shake,” he says, returning the gesture. “Your handshake’s really firm.”

Amy smiles. “I took a seminar.”

“I’m hearing wedding bells!”

Everyone jumps at Charles’ appearance out of nowhere beside Jake, looking between him and Amy.

“Uhhh...” Jake and Amy chorus, dropping each other’s hands awkwardly.

“Charles, you live with Jake?” Rosa asks.

“Uh, _duh_ , didn’t you see my nametag on the door?” Charles responds.

Rosa and Amy both look back up at the door. Sure enough, next to Jake’s nametag is _Charles_.

“Dude, literally so many people in the world are named ‘Charles,’” Jake reminds. “Your nametag could’ve easily been referring to another ‘Charles.’”

“But there’s no other ‘Charles’ in your life, right, Jakey?”

Charles and Jake’s conversation fades into the background as Rosa looks through the space between Jake and Charles, into the apartment behind them. There’s a girl there, with red hair, sitting on the couch and staring at her phone, seemingly unaware (or uncaring) of the event unfolding at the door.

Rosa looks back to the nametags on the door, rereading the one above Charles and Jake’s, bearing a name Rosa doesn’t recognize.

 _Gina_.

“Who’s Gina?” Rosa asks.

“Oh! Gina’s our roommate,” Jake says. “Or…apartment-mate? She has her own room, so…”

“I didn’t know you could have co-ed apartments on campus,” Amy says.

“Gina hacked the system.” Jake shrugs as he and Charles step back, gesturing for Rosa and Amy to formally enter. “Some hacker kid owed her a favor, or something?”

“Savant,” Charles supplies.

“Right. Savant.”

As Jake closes the door behind them, Rosa breaks off from the group enough to clearly see “Gina” still staring at her phone. Rosa can’t imagine being so lackadaisical about strangers entering her living space; she and Amy set up rules for hosting people in their room, though Amy mostly works with other people in the library or study rooms while Rosa sticks to herself, so she doubts it’ll ever become much of a _thing_ for them. But Gina’s total nonchalance seems a bit much.

“Rosa,” Amy says, drawing her attention away from Gina, “your favor?”

“Oh, yeah,” Rosa says, turning back to Jake. “I want GSA and SSP to have an alliance.”

GSA is the Gender Sexuality Association, which is, well, exactly what it sounds like. Though Rosa never got incredibly personal with Jake during their regular hang-outs back in freshman year, they at least discussed their respective on-campus activity participation. While Rosa was drawn to LSU and SSP, Jake eagerly joined GSA as soon as he could, and last Rosa heard, he was on their eboard.

“Rosa, that’s a great idea!” Charles says excitedly, grasping Jake’s arm dramatically. “Jake, you _have_ to agree to join.”

(Rosa detects movement in her peripheral vision. Gina has shifted her sitting position on the couch.)

“Hold on, I’m only the VP,” Jake reminds, brushing him off. “I can’t decide everything myself!”

“Who’s the president?” Amy asks. “How should we contact them?”

“Well, as a matter of fact—“

“She’s right here.”

The new voice is apparently Gina’s, who’s now standing between Jake and Charles. (Rosa has no idea when or how she got there so quickly…)

“What’s good, everyone, it’s me, Gina Linetti,” she introduces with a proud smile. “Human form of the one hundred emoji and your 2016-2017 GSA president and overlord.”

“Oh, that was easy,” Amy says. “I’m Amy. I’m the VP of Sí Se Puede. And this is Rosa; she’s the president.”

Rosa blanks for a second, because Gina’s eyes are, like… _super_ blue. Whoa.

“Uh,” she recovers, “’sup.”

(Amy flashes her a warning smile that practically screams _DO NOT ENGAGE ROMANTICALLY OR SEXUALLY!!!_ )

“Basically, we just want to unite the different communities on campus this year to increase awareness of the different issues happening in our respective groups and how they intersect for some people,” Amy says. “We were hoping GSA would be interested.”

“Well, we hate Trump, too,” Jake says with a boyish smile. “Which I’m assuming was the main point of all the words you just said.”

“Yes,” Amy says slowly, in the tone Rosa recognizes as Amy impatiently dumbing it down. Rosa withholds a smirk.

“Cool,” Gina says. “We’re in.”

“Cool,” Rosa echoes. Gina smiles at her.

Nice.

* * *

“That went surprisingly well,” Amy says as they walk back to their dorm. “We should’ve teamed up with GSA years ago!”

“We should have a joint-advocacy-teach-in about the undocuqueer movement,” Rosa says.

“Oh my God, _yes!_ ” Amy whirls around to face her with a big grin. “That’s such a good idea, Rosa!”

While Amy’s the type to go all out with planning and organization, Rosa likes to brainstorm subject matter for their club to address, whether it be in meetings or events they put on for the rest of the school community. Working with GSA opens up a whole new avenue of topics to research and educate on, and Rosa would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited.

(Plus, she’s intrigued at the prospect of working beside Gina. She seems to have a lot of social cred stocked up to get others to do what she wants, and considering how overlooked SSP is, this could do them and the other immigrant students on campus a lot of good.)

(…And, _fine_ , Gina’s hot, _okay?_ You can’t blame a girl for looking, _geez_.)

“That Jake dude is something else, though,” Amy says after they enter their building. “I clearly stated what our purpose was and I didn’t even _mention_ Trump! Everything I was talking about has been happening under Obama and will _probably_ still happen under Hillary _or_ Trump, which is why we’re making this coalition in the first place.”

“You would’ve exploded their brains if you went into all that,” Rosa says. “You have to ease them into it.”

“Ugh.” Amy groans, dragging her feet.

“White people,” Rosa reminds.

* * *

After Amy’s gone to bed—after triple-checking her backpack for the appropriate school supplies and folders and notebooks and shit—Rosa’s still up, ripping out the notes from when she last used her notebook, last semester. She figured she could save some money by avoiding the “back to school” capitalist hype over the summer.

Her phone lights up and buzzes with a text, stopping Rosa mid-rip. She looks over, only to find that it’s from Gina, of all people.

(They’d all exchanged contact info after their meeting earlier. Jake made a group chat. Charles demanded to be included, and immediately spammed the chat with his general hype for life, so Gina kicked him out, thus making the group chat a sacred “club presidents and vice presidents ONLY (commoners don’t interact [especially Charles])” space, according to the group chat name.)

This text is just to Rosa, though, so she quickly unlocks her phone to read it.

_u seem cool. love ur attitude. can’t wait to kick ass w/u. [100 emoji] [heart emoji] [knife emoji]_

Rosa’s heart does a _thing_ that Amy would _definitely_ yell at her for if she knew, but it’s _fine_ , because Rosa knows she’s not gonna catch feels. Nope.

_you seem cool too. thanks for helping us._

_sure thing boo. the gays gotta support each other. (i get the vibe from u and amy. or should i say bi-be)_

Rosa has to quiet her snort-laugh combo so it doesn’t wake Amy.

_well, you’re not wrong. thanks again. good luck in your classes tomorrow._

_ty! u too. [sparkle emoji]_

With that, Rosa resumes trying to rip her notebook paper as quietly as possible, the mindless activity pushing her thoughts to drift further down the hole of Gina—her new _completely platonic_ interest.

(Yeah, Rosa’s not sure she entirely believes that either.) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof okay that was a Lot of exposition but Bear With Me it gets lit from here and focuses more on dianetti with some peraltiago here and there BUT MOSTLY DIANETTI BC IT’S WHAT THE GAYS DESERVE. but also ft. a lot of the sleuth sisters bc i love them sm 
> 
> as you can tell i also just wanted to have fun with rosa’s long ass string of exes bc it rly cracks me up…amy, roast her!!!!! also since we never saw tiffany i figured i could do whatever tf i want with her so guess what? she’s filipino. also amy and jake are both bi. (gina…we’ll get to gina later. it’s gonna be a Thing.) thx for coming to my ted talk
> 
> anyway yeah sorry i just needed an outlet for my liberal arts college experience in the time of trump which i figured would work for b99 since the show is literally liberal as fuck. watch out trump the gays are ready to fight u to the death!!!!!
> 
> but oof here’s a Key to all the v specific terms i used here, sorry if that created any confusion:  
> -LSU: Latinx Student Union  
> -BSU: Black Student Union  
> -PASA: Pilipino (Filipino) Student Union  
> -SSP: Sí Se Puede  
> -GSA: Gender Sexuality Association  
> -bigs and littles: a big is one’s designated mentor in a student organization; a little is the big’s designated mentee. yes, i do think that cultural clubs appropriated this from fraternities/sororities, and yes, i do think it’s awesome.  
> -eboard: executive board, essentially just club officers/student council for the club  
> -peach green tea lemonade: peach…with green tea….in the lemonade…..lesser amounts of ice than standard….starbucks isn't real  
> -hot goss: hot gossip. aka rosa’s love life  
> -boba tea: u put….the boba…the tapioca balls…in the milk tea….ppl who say “bubble tea” don’t interact!!!!!!  
> -advocacy teach-in: basically a day dedicated to workshops about social justice issues and related activist movements and how to get involved!!!!!!!!!  
> -undocuqeer movement: an american movement by queer undocumented immigrants (aka, “illegal immigrant”, but no human being is illegal, so fuck that term, we out here using “undocumented”). [learn more here!!](http://equalityarchive.com/issues/undocuqueer-movement/)
> 
> let me know what you guys think!!!! also pls send me motivation to see this fic thru ahaahahha dies


	2. power moves only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We have a proposition for you,” Gina butts in from the background, coming to stand beside Rosa. “We’ve decided to join forces to defeat our common enemy: Republicans.”
> 
> “Gina,” Holt chastises.
> 
> (Gina cuts a deal with Rosa...in return for Something.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> geT READY FOR THE GAY!!!! more dianetti in this chapter YEET

Rosa wakes the next morning to Amy’s alarm on full fucking _blast_. She turns over to peer at Amy’s side of the room, only to see Amy still peacefully sleeping.

“Amy,” she groans into her pillow, struggling to keep her eyes open. “ _Amy_.”

Whatever the hell Amy’s alarm tone is, it’s not stopping, since Amy has yet to awaken. Amy had told Rosa beforehand that she’s a heavy sleeper, sure, but, _geez_ , this is a lot worse than Rosa expected. Clearly, outside force is necessary. Rosa blindly reaches her hands out around herself to find something to throw at Amy, but the only thing she really has is her pillow. Is the sacrifice worth it? Or will Amy remain asleep, making Rosa’s selfless effort all for naught?

Amy’s phone is _still_ blaring, so Rosa makes up her mind quickly, and chucks her pillow across the room at Amy.

The _thump_ of the pillow square against Amy’s face simply triggers a groan and Amy turning onto her other side.

“Santiago!” Rosa drones, hitting her head back against the mattress, now that she’s pillow-less. “Turn off your damn alarm!”

Amy groans again but, thankfully, reaches a hand out to her phone, blindly going for the snooze button. After a few moments of unsuccessful _thumps_ , the sound finally cuts, allowing silence to fill the room once more. Rosa sighs, content, and checks the time on her phone, only to find that she doesn’t have to be up for her class for another hour or so.

But now she doesn’t have a pillow.

She lies face down on to muffle her groans.

* * *

 

Her first surprise of the day is finding herself in a class with Jake once again—this time upper division psychology. 

“Need it to catch the bad guys, ya know,” Jake says, sitting sideways in his desk in front of Rosa’s. “Did you ever decide on a major?"

She’d started out as pre-med, since that was one of the harder majors to get accepted into. But halfway through first semester, she started having doubts—one of the few personal things she told Jake. Second semester of freshman year, she switched to business administration, then to engineering (because learning to fly a plane sounds _awesome_ but engineering _sucks ass_ ) last year.

“Criminology,” she says, leaning back in her seat and kicking her feet up onto the desk. Jake leans out of the way of her feet. “Same as you.”

“You picked the coolest one!” Jake says excitedly. “We’re gonna catch bad guys together!”

“Guess so.”

“And now we have class together again!” Jake continues. “Rosa, this semester’s gonna be _so_ fun.”

“Just make sure to get up for the final this time,” Rosa says.

Jake pouts.

* * *

During the short break she has between her classes, Rosa grabs food, only to run into a giddy Amy at the dining commons. 

“I have Professor Cozner again!” she says, practically jumping up and down in the line to pay for their food. “This is going to be the best semester ever!”

Rosa snorts. “Jake said almost the exact same thing to me earlier.”

“Ew, you have class with him _again?_ ” Amy crinkles her nose. “I’m sorry.”

“Jake’s a cool dude,” Rosa says, setting her sandwich and drink down for the cashier to ring up. “And I can tell you think he’s a cool dude, too.”

Amy looks visibly affronted. “Gross.”

“Do you have more nerdy art classes today?”

“Just one more, in an hour,” Amy says. “You know, since you’re also serial major-changer, you should really consider art history—“

“Nope, conversation over.” Rosa finishes paying, gathers her things, and walks away. “See you later at the room!”

* * *

Rosa gets to her next and final class of the day a few minutes early, giving her time to eat her sandwich. 

It’s a dance class which, okay, _first of all_ , everyone has to take some sort of creative artsy type class (“No, Amy, art history doesn’t count.”) as a part of their general education requirements, and _second of all_ , this dance class was one of the few art classes that still had spots open when Rosa registered for classes.

(Third of all…Rosa may or may not have some past experience in dance that she may or may not want to return to just a little bit, without the competitive pressures she faced before, so can you really blame her?)

(Also, again, really, general education requirements are stupid and extra and Rosa had to do _something_.)

Rosa’s halfway through her sandwich when a colorful looking dude sits down next to her. His hair’s frazzled and his clothes don’t smell _quite_ as clean as she’d expect from even a slightly functional human being, but he offers her an uncomfortably friendly smile for a stranger.

“Hi!” he says cheerfully, contrasting his edgy appearance _so much_ that Rosa actually gives him her full attention. “I’m Adrian Pimento.”

“Okay,” she says.

“Do you like to dance?” he asks. “You look like you like dancing. Hope we get to choreograph a number and perform it together!”

“Okay,” she says again.

“You seem dangerous,” he says. “I like it.”

She crumples the paper from her sandwich up into a ball loudly, carelessly. “Cool.”

Their instructor arrives then, letting everyone into the studio and saving Rosa from Pimento’s weird idea of how to properly start conversations. Rosa places her bag in a cubby on the wall, securing her phone in the front pocket when the door opens once more.

Rosa has her back to the door, so she doesn’t see who the newcomer is, until she feels her beside her, pushing her bag into the cubby next to hers—

“Rosa! You dance?”

It’s Gina fucking Linetti.

Putting her shit into the cubby next to Rosa’s.

Because she’s in the same fucking dance class.

(Um… _what._ )

“I need to get rid of the stupid creative G.E. requirement,” Rosa says instead, crossing her arms over her chest. “You dance?”

“Uh, hell yeah, girl!” Gina says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s literally my major.”

Oh. Gina must be a good dancer then, if she got accepted into the school’s dance program.

(And Rosa won’t lie…but this _weirdly_ turns her on? Just a little bit? Amy would be very disappointed if she knew.)

“That’s cool,” Rosa says. “I’m majoring in criminology.”

“Jacob informed me earlier,” Gina says, clasping her phone between her hands. “I knew you were a smart cookie. I got that _vibe_ , ya know?”

Rosa raises an eyebrow. “Do you get weirdly insightful vibes from everyone you meet?”

“Nah, mainly just you,” Gina says. “You should join GSA. Bring what’s-her-name with you…Amelia Earheart?”

Rosa rolls her eyes.

“Our first meeting’s coming up in a few weeks,” Gina continues. “Not to brag, but it’s pretty gay. So, it should be right up your alley.”

“I don’t know,” Rosa says. “Amy and I are gonna be swamped with SSP stuff—“

“Which is why we _joined_ your coalition,” Gina reminds. “We gotta support one another! And obviously the best way to do that is showing up to each other’s meetings. Hashtag: intersectionality.”

Gina has a point. But Rosa’s still unsure. “The LGBTQ+ community isn’t always a great place for people of color.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you there,” Gina relents, raising her hands in surrender. “And if GSA turns out to be problematic and exclusive a-f, then I need to do a better job as president.” She pauses. “Which is why I was hoping you would come to a meeting. So you could give me a personal review. A temperature reading, ya feel?”

Rosa may have only known Gina for, like, half a day, but she’s pretty sure Gina isn’t usually this open about her place of power and the responsibility attributed to it. Must be a testament to just how committed Gina is to her club—and the LGBTQ+ community as a whole.

So, in return for Gina’s seemingly rare moment of vulnerability, Rosa offers her a rare smile. “I see why they elected you president.”

“Mmm, that smile is adorable,” Gina says.

“I’ll come to the first GSA meeting. Just let me know when it is.”

“And Jake and I’ll go to the first SSP meeting. Charles already goes, anyway, so we can just go with him.”

“Thank you,” Rosa says.

“’Course.” Gina nods. “Now that we have that trade-off settled…let’s make another, separate deal.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, you want other clubs to actually _join_ your coalition, don’t you?” Gina scoffs. “GSA isn’t gonna cut it, boo. And you need other clubs to start banding with us sooner rather than later, to swing whatever voters on campus we have to swing before this damn election in two months.”

It’s a good point. Rosa gestures for Gina to continue.

“So, I’ll cut you a deal,” Gina says. “First, come to the LGBTSS office with me after class. I’m the assistant to the director, so I can get an actual administrative office to join your coalition and maybe even back it with some money.”

“Damn,” Rosa says.

“Second of all!” Gina continues, thrusting two fingers in Rosa’s face. “I can get the other clubs to join up with you. I have my secret, powerful ways. I have sleeper agents from GSA embedded in every club. You just have to trust me.”

Rosa narrows her eyes suspiciously. “What’s in it for you?”

Retracting her fingers, Gina’s smile widens. “You owe me a date.”

(Cue Amy’s voice ringing in Rosa’s head: _ROSA, NO!!!!_ )

Rosa clears her throat. “Care to elaborate?”

“Just a single date,” Gina says, crossing her arms over her chest. “God forbid the democratically elected overlord of the gays ever show up to an event date-less. You’re my ‘in case of emergency’ date. Plus, we’d be a _total_ power couple.”

Rosa smirks. They’re both club presidents; she has a point. “So, what, can I not date anyone else until you cash in?”

“Girl, listen, you _gotta_ learn to keep it in your pants while you’re in office; avoid other people in power. Otherwise, I support your sexploration,” Gina says. “So, deal or no deal?”

This doesn’t even sound like _that_ fair of a trade-off on Gina’s end, since she’s basically doing all the negotiating and convincing shit Rosa doesn’t want to attempt to do again. And Rosa just has to hang out with Gina for one night in return?

The answer’s pretty obvious.

“Deal,” Rosa says.

She and Gina immortalize their decision with a firm handshake just as their instructor calls everyone to the center of the floor. Gina offers Rosa a little (flirtatious?) smile.

“Catch you on the dance floor, Rosie.”

* * *

Gina leads Rosa to LGBTSS (LGBT Student Services) after class. It’s in the same building as the other offices catering to specific groups of students on campus—black, Latinx, Jewish, etc.—but Rosa’s never stepped foot into LGBTSS. Part of it is exactly what she told Gina, about the reception of people of color in the LGBTQ+ community. 

Another large part is just Rosa’s openness with her bisexuality. Her family doesn’t know yet and she’s not sure she ever wants to tell them. That’s the great thing about being away at college; she can be whoever she wants to be without parents or siblings or other relatives questioning her.

Dating around the cultural clubs is one thing. But stepping foot into an actual, official, administrative office catering to students who are queer? Interacting with _adults_ rather than other dumb college kids her age as Rosa Diaz, a junior criminology major who identifies as bisexual? Officially and unashamedly owning up to her identity?

It’s more than a little terrifying.

Gina seems to understand, though, considering she’s been standing just outside the office with Rosa for ten seconds without complaint.

“I was nervous to come here the first time, too,” Gina says, staring down the door with Rosa. “Like, I knew I was gay, but am I really an _official_ gay?”

“I get a vibe,” Rosa jokes, turning Gina’s words back on her, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d swear Gina actually _blushed_ for a second there.

“Yeah, everyone does,” Gina says. “Took me a while to figure it out, but now I’m here in all my pan glory.”

(Rosa holds onto that tidbit of information— _pansexuality_ —and mentally stores it in what she’s now deemed her running Gina folder.)

“Nice,” is all Rosa says, because she’s useless and bad at talking to girls.

“It _is_ pretty nice,” Gina says. “Ready to go inside?”

Rosa nods. Gina opens the door and leads Rosa inside. They completely bypass the front desk despite the “check-in here first!” sign beside it, and head straight for what Rosa assumes to be the office of the director.

(Sure enough, the name plate on the door reads: “Raymond Holt, Director of LGBTSS”.)

Gina knocks, then opens the door without waiting for a response. Rosa follows her in curiously.

“Sir, it’s Gina,” Gina announces, stepping aside to allow Rosa to come into view. “You have a visitor.”

“Gina, you’re not supposed to come into work for another half hour,” Holt says, taking off his glasses and looking up at them, giving Rosa a chance to get a good look at him. (Seeing she’s not the only person of color in a designated queer space allows her to breathe a silent sigh of relief.) “And I didn’t have any visitors scheduled today.”

“Yeah, I just scheduled her for you myself an hour ago,” Gina says.

Holt looks to Rosa.

“Hi,” Rosa says, stepping up to his desk. “I’m Rosa Diaz. I’m the president of Sí Se Puede, our school’s—“

“—immigration rights awareness club, yes, I am aware of Sí Se Puede. It’s an important organization,” Holt says. “And that’s an admirable position.”

“Thanks,” Rosa says.

“We have a proposition for you,” Gina butts in from the background, coming to stand beside Rosa. “We’ve decided to join forces to defeat our common enemy: Republicans.” 

“Gina,” Holt chastises.

“This year, SSP eboard wants to form a coalition with other on-campus organizations that support students from marginalized groups,” Rosa says, channeling her inner Amy (not that she’d ever admit that to Amy). “Gina and I met last night to discuss a GSA and SSP alliance, and we were hoping LGBTSS would like to join.”

It’s straight to the point, but diplomacy has never been Rosa’s specialty. Why use words when you can use force, anyway?

(“Rosa, that’s _horrible_ philosophy,” Amy said when Rosa had first told her as such. Whatever.)

“How do you plan on using such an alliance?” Holt asks, holding his hands together on his desk.

“We mostly just want to publicly increase solidarity between our groups, since there’s a lot of overlap between our communities,” Rosa says. “I don’t have any specific plans set in stone yet, but I was at least hoping we could start with an advocacy teach-in, focusing on the intersectionality of our two groups.”

“Queer prom could use some new faces in the spring,” Gina adds. “Tons of cool joint-event opportunities here, sir.”

“Indeed,” Holt says with a nod. “Well, consider LGBTSS an ally to SSP. Students may need more support right now, and you’re right: an increased show of solidarity between our groups may provide that support and help cultivate community.”

Rosa can’t help but smile. “Thank you, sir. This means a lot to me. And the rest of SSP.”

“Yay, team!” Gina holds her hand out between Rosa and Holt. “’Destroy Republicans’ on three.”

“ _Gina_.”

* * *

“So, when I cash in my date favor, make sure to wear something that matches me, but not too much. We don’t want to clash or look too tacky. Honestly, just run your outfit by me first.” 

Rosa nods along to Gina’s terms and conditions as they walk across campus back toward their dorms. She rests her hands in her pockets, going back over Holt’s agreement to join the coalition in her head. Amy’s gonna piss herself when she finds out they have administrative support.

At the same time, Rosa isn’t sure how to feel about publicly entering the queer world of CSU. It’s irrational, but what if her parents found out somehow? What would they say? They’re just so _traditional_ , Rosa doubts they’d accept her attraction to girls—let alone _bisexuality_ , which will probably only confuse and trouble them further. She can hear their words now: “At least you’ll still marry a man! And have kids! Heteronormativity!”

Ugh.

“Again, I don’t plan on cashing in on this until I absolutely need to,” Gina continues, drawing Rosa’s attention away from her thoughts. “I usually don’t have a problem finding dates for things.”

“Why ask me, then?”

“’Cause you’re hot.”

(Cue Amy’s voice ringing in Rosa’s head: _DO!!!! NOT!!!!!! ENGAGE!!!!!!!!!!_ )

So, Rosa just dismisses it with a soft scoff. “Cool.”

(Actually, none of this is cool, Rosa feels nothing but _warm_ inside, which only angers the Amy in her brain further.)

“Mmhmm. Plus, like I said, it’s a total power couple moment waiting to happen,” Gina says oh-so-casually. “Might as well capitalize on it sometime.”

It’d be one thing if Rosa was president of LSU or some other larger club, considering SSP’s small numbers, but she doesn’t protest. A president is still a president, after all. And she’s more satisfied than anything that Gina treats SSP as an equal; many clubs don’t.

“Anyway, I’ll talk to my contacts in BSU, LSU, and PASA tonight and see what’s up,” Gina says. “We can use the advocacy teach-in to draw more people into the coalition and ultimately get the other clubs to officially join.”

Rosa nods. “I’ll start planning with Amy this week. Our eboards should get together soon, too, to start researching the intersectional aspects of sexuality and immigration and then brainstorm the actual workshops we’ll have.”

Gina laughs a little. “You’re good at this.”

“I have some practice.” Rosa shrugs.

They stop walking; they’ve reached Rosa and Amy’s residence hall.

“Good work, team,” Gina says. “Let’s make the magic happen.”

“Thanks again, Gina.” Rosa offers her a small smile. “We couldn’t do this without you.”

“Thank you for telling me how great I am,” Gina says. “That takes a lot of courage, you know.”

Rosa rolls her eyes, but her smile remains. “See you later.”

“See you on the _dance floor_ , girl.” Gina shimmies away. “Every Monday and Wednesday for the next three and a half months!”

Rosa gives Gina a few more seconds of her attention before turning away to enter the building.

(She’s halfway up the stairwell when she realizes that stupid little smile never left her face.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look rosa....no matter how hard u try.....ur gonna catch feels.......we all know it's tru.......
> 
> god bless creative/artsy g.e. requirements for forcing rosa to take a dance class with gina heh heh hehhhh
> 
> also you can't tell me we all don't have a Little Amy Voice in our brains trying to offer us guidance after watching b99 like i can feel amy in me every day
> 
> alSO LOOK IK I PUT PIMENTO IN THERE BUT DW!!!! HE IS JUST THERE(TM) IT'S OK....OR...IS IT????? 
> 
> (nah i won't dick around with y'all bc we deserve dianetti without a stupid love triangle with a dude so rly pimento is just there for my amusement and for later uses heheh)


End file.
